


Slings and Arrows

by Anonymous



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Gen, Mind Healers (Harry Potter), Nightmares, Post-Second War with Voldemort, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, References to Depression, Shakespeare Quotations, Suicidal Thoughts, Therapy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-11
Updated: 2021-03-11
Packaged: 2021-03-18 02:08:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,835
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29975778
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: After the second wizarding war, Severus struggles with the reality of what his life has become.Will his sea of troubles pull him below its surface, or can he find a way to swim with the tide?
Kudos: 4
Collections: 2021 DBQ Round One: Boggart





	Slings and Arrows

**Author's Note:**

  * In response to a prompt by [TheSlytherinCabal](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheSlytherinCabal/pseuds/TheSlytherinCabal) in the [DBQ2021Round1](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/DBQ2021Round1) collection. 



> Disclaimer: The characters do not belong to me but are the property of J.K.R. and Warner Bros. No copyright infringement is intended. The theme for this round of the competition was Boggart and my chosen pairing was Severus Snape/Andromeda Tonks. Comments/Reviews are encouraged by The Slytherin Cabal's Admin Team on all stories in Death By Quill, but comments left by readers are set to be moderated by story authors until the end of the competition in order to protect participants' anonymity. Thank you to my beta for their time and help.

  
He sat alone in the house he’d grown up in, contemplating matters of life and death, good and evil, light magic and dark.

In his hands was a copy of _Moste Potente Potions,_ a quill protruding from the pages. He opened it to one particular page and perused the instructions again, although there was really no need; he knew each line by heart.

Once, he’d told impressionable young first years that potions could bewitch the senses, ensnare the mind, and stopper death. But of course, they were equally as capable of summoning death as arresting it. This was the potion he reviewed now, a long and elegant finger tracing the words.

The question of whether or not to take that final step and end his dismal life had weighed heavy on his mind for some time now - ever since the completion of the post-war trials; and, if he were honest with himself, even before that.

Severus considered a line from _Hamlet - Whether ‘tis nobler in the mind to suffer the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune, or to take arms against a sea of troubles, and so opposing, end them? To die; to sleep, No more._

The character in question may have been a complete dunderhead, but Severus could nevertheless appreciate the message behind the soliloquy. It may have surprised many to know that he read Shakespeare; had he disclosed the fact to anyone. No doubt the Granger girl, insufferable know-it-all that she was, would have been ecstatic and hounded him mercilessly about it, wanting to delve into a deep analysis of the many characters and themes of Shakespeare’s works.

He shook his head and returned his attention to the potion, studying the text for several more minutes before closing the book with a sigh. He looked dispassionately around the small, dreary sitting room. His eyes were pulled to the small card sitting on the side table, its brightness both taunting and beckoning him. Draco had left it several days earlier, along with his endorsement and an impassioned plea. Severus placed the book down and picked up the card, sneering at the words.

_Andromeda Tonks - Mind Healer_

Her contact details, office address and qualifications were listed below.

_“She specialises in trauma,”_ Draco had told him. _“Especially post-war trauma. I was sceptical at first, but she helped me. I thought no one would ever be able to help me. Just owl her, Severus. It can’t hurt to try.”_

Severus strongly disagreed with this statement. Trying could certainly hurt. He was confident that trying would cause him a great deal of pain; pain he wasn’t ready to acknowledge. Wouldn’t it be easier to permanently silence the voices and images that plagued him, rather than face them down?

_To be, or not to be; that is the question._

Indeed it was. 

He placed the card back on the table beside the potions book and continued to contemplate.  
  


* * *

  
The door to an inner room opened and a young witch emerged, red-eyed and with a damp-looking handkerchief clutched in her hand. 

“You did really well today,” a voice from within the room was saying. “And remember - we can’t hide from our fears by using enchantments. We need to face them and fight them head on in order to truly move forward.”

The witch nodded, then glanced into the waiting area. She noticed him, and her face closed off immediately. She quickly looked away, adjusted her robes, and hurried towards the exit. 

Severus rolled his eyes. He was used to reactions like that, but they were no less infuriating the thousandth time than they had been the first. Despite having been acquitted of the crimes he’d been accused of, he was still regarded as a filthy Death Eater.

Now Andromeda emerged fully, glancing down at a small notebook. “Mr Smith…?” 

She looked up and locked eyes with Severus, her expression momentarily taken aback before being replaced with one of understanding. “Won’t you come in?” she continued, opening the door wide in invitation.

Severus briefly considered turning and fleeing from the building. His stomach was twisted into knots, his palms sweaty. He must have been mad coming here. But… Well, perhaps it was time to stop running away from his problems. He was sick of hiding. Sick of living, really, but he would give it one more try, because to give in would be weak, and he disdained the thought of losing control. He stood and wordlessly followed her into the room.  
  


* * *

  
“Severus. Or should I call you _Mr Smith?”_

Andromeda’s tone was amused, the corner of her mouth turned up in a smirk that reminded him very much of her sisters.

“No, Mrs Tonks, that will not be necessary. Severus will suffice.”

“Very well. And you may call me Andromeda. If I may ask - how did you hear of my practice?”

“Draco,” Severus said. “He was most insistent that I visit you. Irritating boy.”

“I see.” Andromeda summoned a Muggle writing pad and pen, and made a note on it. “And did he tell you of my methods?”

“He did not. He merely recommended you as a competent mind healer.”

“Well, my treatment is… rather unconventional,” Andromeda said. “Traditional mind healing focuses on suppression of problematic memories or mind ailments - trying to banish them from the forefront of the patient’s psyche. This doesn’t actually _solve_ the issue, it merely hides it — like casting a glamour charm, if you will.”

Severus nodded slowly to show he understood.

“I incorporate Muggle methods of mind healing into my treatment,” she continued. “Muggle mind healers believe that confronting one’s memories and ailments directly, and developing strategies to _manage_ rather than hide them, is the true key to recovery. Unfortunately, for Muggles it can take a great deal of time to discover the true root of the problem, as some triggers and traumatic incidents may be so deeply repressed it becomes difficult for the patient to recognise and acknowledge them.”

“So you use a combination of magical and Muggle methods?” Severus concluded.

“Correct. Now, we will commence the session. If you’ll be so kind as to join me?” 

Andromeda moved to the far side of her office, which had a wooden floor and several items of furniture, including a standing cupboard which Severus assumed was used for storing cloaks and other items. He followed her and stood at her side, curious in spite of himself and thinking Muggle mind healing was very strange.

Without warning, Andromeda flicked her wand and the cupboard door flew open. Severus gasped as a cold hand gripped his throat, and pain lanced through his body.

Nagini emerged, her mouth open wide. Her fangs dripped with venom. She hissed, rose up and drew back to strike. She lunged—

He’d frozen for a moment as the vision invaded his mind, but recovered quickly. 

_“Riddikulus!”_

Nagini was gone, but in her place was Lily, grey-skinned, half-decayed. Her once-beautiful face was contorted in rage, and bony fingers with the flesh stripped from them reached out for him. “You could have saved us, Severus. Why didn’t you? Bastard!”

_“Riddikulus!”_

Lily was replaced with Harry, just as dead as his mother, being carried in Hagrid’s arms. But this time he was _really_ dead. He wouldn’t come back to life. His arm swung loosely, his pale hand slack. Those green eyes, so like his mother’s, open but lifeless and staring—

_“Riddikulus!”_

The Dark Lord himself - Voldemort - was there. He, too, was incensed. He was going to kill Severus, because he had discovered his servant's deep betrayal. “Your end will not be quick, this time,” the Dark Lord hissed. “It will be slow, Severus, and you will beg for death. But before I grant your wish, you will feel immense and excruciating pain.” He raised his wand. _“Crucio.”_

Severus screamed. Even though it wasn't real, he felt the agonising fire of the curse as it ripped through his veins. He fell to the floor, his body contorting from the pain.

“Severus!”

He continued to scream. “Please, my Lord, Please— No more—!”

_“Severus!”_

A jet of icy cold water struck his face, shocking him back to consciousness. He realised the pain had stopped. Opening his eyes, he looked around. Voldemort was gone; as were all the other spectres that had haunted him during the encounter. He was lying on a wooden floor - where was he? He glanced to his side and found Andromeda leaning over him, her expression both concerned and knowing.

He remembered where he was now, and why he was here. Shame flooded through him at the realisation that he had allowed his weaknesses to overcome his strict self-control, that he had been reduced to rolling around on the floor and screaming - and in front of another person, no less. 

Andromeda offered a hand to help him to his feet, but he batted it away impatiently and stood on his own. His legs trembled with the effort, but he was determined not to show it. He would leave now, and never come back. He would—

But instead, he stumbled, and Andromeda grasped his arm. “Come, sit. You need to let your body recover,” she ordered, leading him back to the chair he had previously occupied. He tried to argue, but found he couldn’t quite manage it. He chose to glare at her instead and allowed her to lower him to his seat.

Once he was settled, she returned to her own chair opposite him, then flicked her wand again. A tea service floated over to the small coffee table between them; Severus looked in the direction it had come from and noticed a small kitchenette area he hadn’t seen earlier.

“My consulting room is fully equipped, given my style of treatment,” Andromeda explained as she poured him a cup of strong tea. “How do you take it?”

“Black,” he said, his tone short. He still couldn’t believe she’d exposed him so completely, and was barely keeping a lid on his anger.

“Go ahead, shout. Scream. Insult me, if you must. You need to stop suppressing all your emotions, Severus. We have a lot to work on.” She passed him his cup and he took it grudgingly, not wanting to accept anything this detestable woman gave him.

Abruptly, he banged his teacup and saucer down on the table, causing some of the liquid to slop over the side.

“How dare you?” he seethed. “Is this what you call treatment? Encouraging your patients to make fools of themselves? To lose every bit of their dignity while you watch on? I should report you to the Medical Council!”

“The Medical Council both knows of and endorses my treatment,” Andromeda said mildly, as if this wasn’t the first time she had been threatened in this way. “The method I use for assessing my patients’ needs is much faster and more accurate than those Muggles use. Short of using Legilimency, there is no better way to uncover what is lurking in the deepest recesses of a patient’s mind. And now that I know what your particular boggarts are, we can begin to confront them.”

Severus was left speechless. Despite his lingering indignation at her trickery, he had to admit - even if it was with very bad grace - that she had a point.

“Surely you should warn your patients beforehand,” he grumbled, picking up his cup again and taking a large sip.

“Warning my patients about what to expect would vastly reduce the treatment’s efficacy,” Andromeda said, raising an eyebrow. “You, of all people, should know that the element of surprise, catching a person off-guard and unprepared, is the most reliable way to gather information.”

Severus stared at her suspiciously, certain she was mocking him. And why not? Almost everyone did. “What are you insinuating, _Mrs Tonks?”_ he said, fixing her with the look he reserved for his most dunderheaded students.

However, she seemed completely unfazed, staring back at him calmly. Appraising him. “What do you think I’m insinuating?” she asked.

“I—beg your pardon?” he spluttered.

“You’re very defensive and quick to take offence at perceived slights,” Andromeda continued. “Why is that?”

“I am not—”

“Have you always had difficulty engaging with others?” she said, making a note on that infernal pad.

Severus was beginning to feel very much like a bug pinned to a board, no less exposed now than he had been in the face of the boggart. He would not stand for this! He rose to his feet, and without another word, strode towards the door, intending to leave and never come back. This had all been a mistake. He’d been a fool to come. He would go home and—

“Why did you become a Death Eater, Severus?”

The question froze him to the spot, just as effectively as an _Immobilus._

“You can leave if you want,” Andromeda stated, her tone as mild as ever. “I won’t stop you. But if you leave, your worst and deepest fears will forever plague you. They will torment you until you cannot take it any longer, and you either submit to madness, or take your own life.”

At last he turned to face her, moving slowly, like he was underwater. Had she used Legilimency on him without him noticing? Surely not—! He was a master of Occlumency, and he would have known. Had she entered his mind while he was insensible?

“I don’t have to use Legilimency to know you’ve had suicidal thoughts,” Andromeda said. 

Severus took an involuntary step back, feeling completely untethered. She had seen right through him. _Nobody_ ever saw through him. How—?

“Sit down, Severus.” Andromeda gestured to the chair he’d recently vacated. 

As if under an _Imperio_ , Severus complied, his thoughts whirling.

“I am going to ask you a question, and I want you to answer it honestly,” she said once he was facing her again.

He nodded slowly, not sure if he would even be able to form coherent words.

“Do you want to die? In the deepest part of your soul, are you determined to take your life?”

Severus didn’t respond right away, although he knew the answer. He wasn’t sure if he could say it out loud, because that would mean admitting to someone else he _needed help,_ which would make it far too real _._ His throat worked as he tried to force the sound to the surface. 

Finally, he croaked out one word. “No.”

The dam broke and, quite overcome with grief, he wept. Softly at first. But as the guilt and fear and loneliness and resentment he’d carried around on his shoulders since childhood bore down on him, his anguish intensified until he was sobbing, face in his hands, barely able to breathe. 

His whole life had been a disaster. He had nothing to show for his years on this earth - nothing. No friends, no wife, no standing in society, not even employment. He’d resigned from his position at Hogwarts, no longer able to bear the memories that haunted him within the castle walls. He had shut himself away from everyone and everything. 

But despite all his failings, despite being a pariah, despite the nightmares and the self-loathing, he wanted to live. Part of him didn’t want to take that final step, because—

“I’m afraid,” he gasped from behind his palms, the realisation settling in his bones as he acknowledged the truth to himself for the first time. “I’m afraid all the time. Of death, of their hatred, of my nightmares—of everything.”

“Oh Severus. You don’t have to be afraid. If you’ll agree to work with me, I can help you overcome all those things. Not to banish them, or glamour them away, but to pull them apart and break them down into pieces small enough that you can manage them, instead of them managing you. Think of it as preparing a potion - to succeed, you first need to gather all the ingredients, and then add them in precise order, step by step.”

Severus felt a gentle touch against his knee and looked up through blurry eyes to see an offered handkerchief. He took it and mopped at his face, then blew his nose. He felt so incredibly weary, but also empty, like a husk.

“This is a process,” she said. “It will take time, but with focus and determination, we will achieve results.”

“Will I ever be rid of these thoughts?” he asked.

“Truthfully, it’s likely your fears will always be with you to some degree,” Andromeda said. “Some things never completely leave us, which is why I will help you develop strategies to move forward.” 

She summoned a water jug and glass, poured, and offered him the cool liquid. He hadn’t realised how parched he was until that moment, and swallowed the entire contents in several large gulps. Without being asked, Andromeda refilled the glass.

“Are you ready to face your fears?” she said.

Severus placed the glass on the table in front of him and clasped his hands in his lap.

“No,” he said. “But regardless, let us begin.” 


End file.
